From Cold Within
by Opacus
Summary: What happens when a section of the Quarrymen known as Scio finds solid evidence that the Children of Oberon exist and threatens to expose their existence to the planet? Can our trickster trick his way out of this one? Rated for adult, non-sexual, themes.
1. I Remember

I don't own Gargoyles, or Shakespeare, or well.. a lot of stuff that I wish I owned. Note, when I say 'goblin' 'hobgoblin' 'Robin Goodfellow' or the like, I'm usually referring to Puck. I happen to like using the nickname goblin though, tends to remind people that while Puck does posses some morals (he's developed a few, even if morality in and of itself still may confuse him from time to time) he's still a trickster and his tricks aren't always nice or well meaning. I tend to ignore every episode past "The Journey" due to trying to keep with canon, though I may borrow from time to time form the third season. Also, I will borrow from Ask Greg where he says things like 'this happened at this time' etc even if it didn't happen in the series, though I will go against some things he said in favor of storyline.

Yes I plan on continuing to work on my other fanfiction, but the idea for this one slapped me so hard I had to start it.

--

The tapping of keys on a keyboard was the only sound audible in the sophisticated and almost excessively organized office. Its occupant? The majordomo and right hand man of one of the richest people in America. A long afternoon and an urgent phone call from Mr. Xanatos had him staying at his desk reading over reports from their latest company acquisition. Face as stoic as ever, he mentally groaned as he read over the repetitive and relentlessly boring words without even showing so much as an ounce of sleepiness. Lately it seemed the only time he ever had any amusement was when it was time for another of Alex's lessons, but the child was four now and spent more time playing with friends than he did clinging to Owen. Glancing over at his calendar he absentmindedly tore off a page and placed it in the waste bin next to his desk as the clock on the wall hit midnight, so it now read August 2nd, 2000.

With a barely heard groan he stood up and tossed the pages onto the desk, wandering over to a window overlooking the city. With a sigh, Puck glanced around to make sure no one was in his office or within visual range of the window, though it was doubtful at this height, and rested Owen's head against it. He'd begun to allow himself these breaks in character when he was alone, lest his banishment drive him mad, and right now he felt it truly might. Eyes gazing over the bright lights of New York, he hardly payed attention to the city as he muttered to himself, "look at what you've gone and gotten yourself into, goblin. Daddy O went and trapped you in your own game." He let out a hint of a sigh, "three months and the most interesting thing to happen was Alex levitating his mother upside down when she tried to get him to go take a bath." Standing up straight again, Puck in Owen's form walked over to pick up a book from the shelf in his office and walked off into the hallway as he made for his living quarters.

He opened up the book, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, and idly flipped through the pages as he walked the hallways and flipped off light switches and locked doors in his daily routine. A smile graced his eyes, even if the rest of his face stayed stoic as he passed over the lines 'Up and down, up and down, / I will lead them up and down. / I am feared in field and town. / Goblin lead them up and down.' _Those were the days, eh Puck old boy?_ He stepped inside a door, closing it behind him, and sat down on a comfortable chair in the corner of the neat and slightly old fashioned room. _Back when my name was synonymous with the devil himself,_ he thought with some amusement as he read on in the book.

It wasn't exactly the most accurate, but since when did Shakespeare go for historical accuracy? _After all look what he did to Macbeth, not to mention this story. _Leaning back in the chair he turned another page as he read over the words and smiled lightly, if sadly, at some of the pages, the only real hint of emotion on his face. So he didn't really notice as he slipped off and fell asleep in the chair, causing the book to drop idly from his hands onto the floor, which led to a slight jolt surprise as the alarm clock in the room on the small table near his bed went off and he awoke with a back ache and sun rays shining through the window.

Pressing his lips together lightly in frustration, Owen stood up and walked over to turn the alarm clock off before he went into the bathroom attached to his bedroom and proceeded to take a brief shower and change into a different suit. Reaching for his glasses, he blew a breath on them and wiped them off with a smooth cloth to defog them from the steam before sliding them on and heading out the door as he began to walk towards his office.

Xanatos stepped in alongside Owen and gave him a light, sharp nod as he handed him a folder, "morning Owen, this is the paperwork from that company we just bought out. I'd like you to inspect this file here in particular. There is some foggy areas in their latest project I want covered, and I think there might be something useful to us here when those gaps are filled."

Owen reached out and took the folder, opening it and giving the contents a quick scan as they continued walking down the hallway as he responded with his typical almost monotone voice, "yes sir, I'll be sure to see to it personally." With that, he turned to part with Xanatos and nodded to his secretary as he passed her by and walked over to his desk in his office. Placing the folder into a plastic file sorter, he picked up the reports from last night he'd left strewn over the desk and neatly put them back into order and into a separate part of the file sorter just as a a voice behind said suddenly and loudly "Bam!" and then broke into laughter. Owen's face threatened to smile as he turned around in his chair and picked up Alex, placing him on his lap and turned back around to face the desk so he could turn on his computer.

Alex beamed up at his uncle and gave him a hug as he watched him. "I gotcha uncle Owen," he said with a grin, causing the other to finally give in to a light and barely visible smile as he rested his arm with the stone fist around Alex and used his other to type.

"Yes you did," came the reply in a voice that only hinted at being warm, though the child was used to it and continued to beam broadly at his uncle and poke him a few times with the plastic toy gun he held. "So how is my favorite nephew doing this morning?"

With a giggle, Alex replied, "I'm yer _only _nephew uncle Owen, 'course I'm you're favorite." To this, Owen's fingers paused for the slightest of moments before continuing with a light nod.

It was then that Fox came into the room to scoop up Alex from Owen's lap with a smile and a brief tickle, "sorry he bugged you Owen, he really should eat breakfast, want to come with us? I made some omelets."

With a glance to the computer and then back at Fox, Owen stood up and pushed his chair back in, "I'd be happy too, madame." Fox smiled at him and motioned for him to follow as they made their way to the dining room and Owen let his mind stray from the topic of work for a small bit while he walked into the kitchen and took the food out to the family, coming back for some orange juice for Fox and Alex, a glass of water for David, and a glass of milk for himself.

Mr. Xanatos gave him a pat on the shoulder, "nice to see you joining us for breakfast for once Owen," to which the only reply was a light, "indeed," from Owen before they began to eat. David and Fox struck up a conversation regarding the Gargoyles, who'd come to stay in the castle since the destruction of the clock tower those years ago, and Owen nodded politely in all the right places as he ate quietly. Standing up, he gave them a last polite nod as he brought his dishes back to the kitchen and cut back through the dining room, "if you'll excuse me I have something I need to finish typing up Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos."

Fox gave her husband one of those looks, and he smirked and looked up at his assistant, "are you sure you don't want some time off Owen? You never take any vacation time and you have quite a bit of it, not to mention you seem increasingly distracted lately."

Owen raised one of his eyebrows slightly and Mr. Xanatos stood up to usher him over into another room where they could speak in relative privacy, "it's just that lately you seem to be daydreaming a lot and me and Fox were worried about you, Owen."

The blond man adjusted his tie and looked up at his employer, "I assure you sir, I am in perfect health," he said without missing a beat, only to have Xanatos rest one of his hands on his shoulder.

"Cut the crap Owen," came the reply, "something is obviously bothering you, and I'm giving you some time off whether you like it or not. Go have some fun, hang out with your friends or something. Plus," he added with a chuckle, "if you _don't _take time off then its _my _butt thats in trouble."

With the lightest tensing of his facial features, Owen replied with a monotonous, "very well sir, I shall take a week off if you insist." With a grin, Xanatos nodded his head and gave Owen a pat on the back before turning to go back into the dining room with his family, leaving Owen to stray back into the hallway and into his office long enough to save his work and turn off his computer before he walked back into his own room.

His eyes fell towards the book that had fallen onto the floor and he picked it up, brushing off the cover with a hand and a light sigh before he slipped back into the chair and continued to read a few pages after where he had left off. Eyes scanned over the pages he'd read numerous times before, eventually he got to the point where he was paying more attention to the scrawling in the margins by Puck where he commented on his own version of the events of the story than how the playwright had told it. The thought passed through his mind that a psychologist would have a field day trying to interpret the intricate nature of the comments and how they related to the writer of them.

A light smile graced his face as he recalled the incidents the playwright had based this particular play on, and so while reading the book he didn't notice a sparkling in the corner of the room and a graceful figure approach him until a touch on his shoulder surprised him and his eyes shot up. Falling down to one knee, he placed the book down on the small table next to the table and moved his gaze down to the floor, "my queen, what brings on this sudden visit?"

Titania kept her hand on Owen's shoulder and knelt herself down, motioning his gaze up to look her into the eyes, "the mortals know, Puck." Owen's face let the briefest moment of confusion show through, and the queen continued, "a faction of the quarrymen has formed known as Scio, and I need you to take care of them before they spread to the rest of the world what they know of our kind. We cannot afford the world knowing our kind exist."

Face revealing his shock, Puck in Owen's form could only stare up at his queen as he digested the implications of the statement she'd just made and said the only thing he could think of, "how?"

--

So, worth continuing? This is a basic plot introduction chapter mainly. Please, feel free to tell me what you think.


	2. Tertium Quid

As you may have noticed, when Puck is predominately in his Owen personality, I just call him Owen. When he's primarily in his Puck personality, I call him Puck in Owen's form or the like. If I say just Puck, its safe to assume I'm probably talking about Puck in Puck's form. Also, I know Owen's office's window was too high up for him to see properly out of it, but they remodeled and thats my excuse.. I'll put it somewhere in this chapter to cover my goof.. maybe. Also, I've had no internet, apologies.

* * *

Puck in Owen's form stared up at Titania and the news she'd revealed before shaking his head lightly and snapping himself together, "What I mean, my queen, is.. how did they find definitive proof? They're just mortals, after all, they barely see anything the way it really is." Well.. it was true. The mortals could barely see a fairy queen and the queen of the third race even when she was standing right in front of them in a mortal body.

Titania frowned and stood up fully, her gaze drifting over to the window as she spoke, "It would seem one of our own was captured and bound in an iron room." Puck in Owen's form grimaced. Gee, she has to go and make this easy for me doesn't she. With a sigh, the blond male pulled himself up so he was standing as well, and adjusted his tie out of nervous habit. "Well yes, that would put us at a distinctive disadvantage."

To this, the queen nodded her agreement as she walked towards one of the mirrors of the room, "You are in a unique position to prevent this from erupting the way the Quarrymen's feud with the gargoyles has. If you accomplish this.." She let her statement hang as she stepped through the mirror and back to Avalon knew where. Owen sighed lightly and walked over to grab the book he'd been reading and placed it on a shelf. Well, at least it won't be boring.

Opting to think over his options, Owen walked down a hallway and a staircase to make his way to one of the elevators. Stepping inside he idly pushed a button and went down into the Eyrie building proper only to step out a few floors down and walk down another hallway before opening a door, revealing the outside. He walked over to stand between two of the large columns and leaned against the small fence that kept people form falling off. Even here he was still higher than a good deal of the surrounding buildings, but it gave him a nice viewpoint as he looked up at the rising sun, his mind drifting off to wonder if sunrise on Avalon was as wonderful as he remembered it.

It was then that his face fell into such a stony expression that the most trained might not even be able to tell what the man was thinking. Closing his eyes, he reached up and removed his glasses, tucking them into a pocket, and pushed up as he leaned out just over the railing. With the wind pushing against him he was in little danger of falling, but his mind wasn't worried about that right now.

Visions of Avalon ran through his head. His friends, his fellow tricksters, the woods, he knew that he didn't want to go there to be locked up for thousands of years, but that doesn't mean I never wanted to see it again he thought to himself. After all, it was his home, where his friends and (dare he say it) family resided. Though not much of a family to be certain, still.. Puck sighed lightly and shook his head, realizing this would probably look like poor Owen had too much to drink and was considering jumping, so he stepped down off of the fence and placed his glasses back on.

He couldn't help that he'd been thinking about it, it was just last month that was the anniversary of Alexander's birth.. and his banishment. Still, standing on the cliffs with the waves beating against them as the moon glimmered over the water, feeling the heady rush of Avalon's magic enveloping him, the pure and serene nature of the island around him, when he thought of all of that he couldn't help but feel his heart ache. I won't see it again. Ever. He looked around over the city, with its stone and iron constructs, its foul smelling air, its distinctly mortal feel to it, and he sighed in disappointment. If only I could have convinced David and Fox to come live on Avalon with the other mortals. Puck blinked in surprise, straightening out Owen's form rigidly as he muttered to himself, "Now you really are delusional.. wanting to go back."

-

Meanwhile in his office David Xanatos gave a light 'tsk' and turned off the monitor he'd been watching Owen through since he noticed the man walking off somewhere in the building. He had half considered rushing out after Owen himself when he saw him climb up onto the railing, but his knowledge, or perhaps hope, that the man wasn't going to break his vow kept him sitting in his chair as he swiveled it around and muttered to himself, "What is he up to..?"

The wealthy man stood up and clicked off the monitor he'd been watching as he saw the figure of Owen heading off towards the door inside. Running a finger along the side of his beard, he stood up and walked over towards the other side of his large office, verbally thinking over what could be so deeply bothering his most trusted employee. "It just isn't like him to behave like this. He almost never slips his character."

With a sigh and a dismissing motion of his hand, David shook his head and reached for his coffee. "If I ask he'll just insist nothing is wrong, so I guess I'll just have to trick it out of him." So, decided, Xanatos sat back down in his seat, thinking over how one might go about out-tricking a trickster.

-

Screaming echoed through the underground facility that the group known as Scio had gotten a hold of, bouncing off the walls of the complex before being absorbed into the soundproof outer walls. A man in a dark blue hooded outfit with a small iron knife walked back towards a slender, ebony-skinned figure in the center of a room with metallic sides, floor, and ceiling. The outfit the man wore did not distinguish him from the rest of the Quarrymen, but the slender figure he was approaching was certainly not one of the group.

Eldresh was not one of the smaller members of the third race, however he was slender, toned, and rather androgynous in appearance. His features had a feminine touch to them, and his skin was the color of onyx and shadows, with long black hair that was held back with a ponytail along with pupil-less eyes a pale red in color, with lavender streaks in them.

Panting, sweat rolled down from him face, dripping onto his bare chest and mingling with the blood that dripped out of the wound that had a thin stick of sharpened iron resting in it. He threw his head back and screamed again, arms curling backwards towards him as the human yanked on the think stick of iron and the skin around it shriveled and Eldresh's features aged that much more. With a growl the man yelled out, "I told you to answer swiftly! How many more of your kind are out there?"

Withdrawing the stick so as not to kill his prisoner, he watched impassively as the slender figure spat on his foot, age slowly retreating from his features. "Like I'd tell you." The human smirked underneath his hood, returning with his knife at the ready. Yes, this strange figure would talk..


End file.
